


Flatmates and Phobias

by swinggal138



Series: Sherlock and Melody [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Crime Scenes, Developing Relationship, Drunk John, F/M, Gen, No Mary, Phobias, Reichenbach Falls, Sherlock Holmes Returns after Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:57:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 16,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1359871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swinggal138/pseuds/swinggal138
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock, after receiving not the expected welcoming from his best friend, John Watson, asks an American girl to move in and finds she is quite useful in helping with his latest case. John, trying to deal with Sherlock returning home, falls for an American bakery owner who is just getting over the death of her fiancé.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John Watson stared at the grave before him, tears springing to his eyes; it had been two years since the death of his best friend but the pain was still there. Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder brought him out of his reveries; next to him stood a very pretty girl, wearing a khaki dress and black tights, holding out a handkerchief to him.  
“It looks like you could use this,” she said, her American accent apparent.  
“Thanks,” he said, gratefully accepting her offer and dabbing the corners of his eyes.  
“How did you know him?” she asked shyly, indicating to the grave.  
“He was my best...my best friend,” John replied, his voice catching a bit.  
“Are you...are you John Watson?” the girl next to him asked, staring at him.  
“Yes...yes I am. Do I know you?” he said, taking a moment to really study the girl.  
“No...no. But I used to read your blog. Sherlock Holmes was a great man. I believe in him.”  
The girl placed her hand on his shoulder again and John turned to her, a look of gratitude in his eyes.  
“Thank you. Yes, he was.”  
“I’m Jessie, by the way.”  
“John. But I guess you...um...already know that. So, um, who is Michael?” he asked indicating to the grave Jessie was standing in front of.  
“He was my fiancé, actually. Died in a motor vehicle accident about a year ago.”  
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that.”  
“Yeah...someone ran a red light...hit him on the driver side. He was killed instantly so he didn’t suffer much.”  
“Well, that’s good...I guess. Um, you wouldn’t be interested in getting lunch or something, would you? I’m sorry...that did not come out the right way; I’m not meaning as a date. I am just...feeling a bit peckish and thought...maybe you would just like to get something to eat with me.”  
“Lunch sounds great,” Jessie agreed as she and John started walking out of the cemetery and towards the road. He hailed a cab and gave him the address of a little cafe he used to frequent. Together, they sat down and ordered some sandwiches, chatting and getting to know each other better while they ate. John told her all about his work as a doctor and Jessie told him about the little bakery she ran. They were just finishing their meal when John’s phone went off, alerting him to a text.  
“I’m sorry...I have to go,” he said, seeming in a bit of a daze.  
“That’s okay. I should probably get back to my bakery anyway. Here,” she said, handing him a business card with the location of her shop on it as well as her phone number, “you should stop by sometime.”  
“Thanks. I...I I think I will. Sorry again about dashing off.”  
“It’s perfectly fine. It was nice to meet you John.”  
“Likewise, Jessie,” he said, vanishing out the door. Jessie grabbed her stuff and left the cafe shortly after, heading over to her bakery for the remainder of the afternoon.


	2. Chapter 2

Over on another side of London, Melody made her way up the steep stairs of 221B Baker Street; she had seen the notice in the newspaper the day before and the flat seemed promising. A raise in rent at her previous flat was forcing her to move and she really only had the weekend to find a place. She wandered upstairs, finding the door open; however, she was not alone. In the flat, which was apparently already furnished, was an attractive, slender man with curly black hair seated in a chair, a violin in his hand. He looked at Melody, and, before she even had a chance to speak, returned his attention to his instrument, saying,  
“This flat is not for rent.”  
“Well I have an ad right here that says it is,” Melody replied indignantly.  
“That ad is no longer applicable since its previous tenant has returned.”  
“See, now I know you’re just full of it because the landlady told me the previous tenant died two years ago.”  
“No.”  
“So, what, you’re a ghost just haunting the flat?”  
“No. It’s really a long story, one I really have no need to explain to you.”  
At this point, the man stood from his chair, grabbing a newspaper off the table and approaching her.  
“Sherlock Holmes. Short story: not dead.”  
Melody looked at the paper, realizing that the man in front of her was, in fact, the detective recently proved innocent.  
“Now,” he continued, setting down the paper, “I have a very good friend to which I need to reveal this same bit of news.”  
“Wait, you’re just going to walk up to your friend, who I’m guessing was very upset about your death, and say what? ‘Surprise! Not dead!’”  
“Something like that.”  
“Yeah, that’s going to go over well.”  
Sherlock just gave her an odd look, not replying as he put on his coat, wrapping his scarf around his neck. Then he headed out the door and down the stairs, leaving Melody in the flat, calling over his shoulder,  
“Feel free to let yourself out. Good day.”  
Not really sure what to do, Melody just stood there for a moment, eventually deciding to go talk to Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, hoping for at least a bit of explanation.


	3. Chapter 3

Several hours later, John slammed open the door to Jessie’s bakery, sitting down at one of the tables in a huff, muttering to himself,  
“I just can’t believe...two years...one word...just one word...”  
Jessie quickly finished up with the one current customer she had at the counter before walking over to the upset doctor.  
“John? What’s wrong?”  
“Sherlock Holmes is alive!”  
“What? How?”  
“Faked his own death apparently! Two years! Two whole years! Just one word...then he comes back like...then the cake...and the jam...”  
“John, John, slow down. You’re not making any sense,” Jessie intoned, placing her hand over his.  
John glanced down at their hands, finally taking a deep breath,  
“You’re right; I’m sorry.”  
“Here, let me grab you tea and some biscuits and we can just talk.”  
John nodded his agreement and Jessie went behind the counter, grabbing two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits, bringing them back to the table; she flipped her closed sign and sat down with John, listening to him vent for hours about his recently-reappeared friend.


	4. Chapter 4

Back on Baker Street, Melody once again ran into Sherlock outside 221B, having just left the little cafe, Speedy’s, after pouring over the paper for other potential flats. The consulting detective, however, had quite a different appearance from when she had last seen him hours before; his lip was bleeding, he had a deep cut on his cheek, and the hint of a black eye was beginning to show.  
“Good meeting?” she quipped; he just gave her a snide look as he dabbed as his lip.  
“Come on,” she said, heading towards the front door, “I’ll help you get cleaned up.”  
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”  
“I have no doubt. But I work at the hospital and would feel much better if you at least let me look at that cut.”  
Finally conceding, Sherlock let her in his flat, directing her to the first aid kit; Melody cleaned up the blood and bandaged the cut, sitting back to admire her work.  
“Thank you,” he muttered.  
“So I take it your friend didn’t react so well?”  
“No...he did not. It seems I am out a flatmate.”  
“I’m sorry to hear that.”  
“Have you any objections to the violin?”  
“Um...no? Why?”  
“I play the violin when I’m thinking.”  
“And you are telling me this because?”  
“You are in need of a place to live. I find myself without a flatmate.”  
“You want me to move in with you? We don’t know each other!”  
“I know that, like me, you prefer to be by yourself. If you had friends, you would turn to them for help finding a place to live. However, you are looking on your own.This could be because you are from America and haven’t been here long enough to make such connections. But earlier you used the term ‘flat’. Not to mention your American accent has just the slightest hint of British influence in how you say some words. Habits like these generally aren’t formed in so short of time so you’ve been here at least a year. I know you work at St. Barts; you told me that earlier. But not a doctor. If you were, you would have said so rather than simply stating you worked at the hospital. However, you clearly have medical background or you would not have insisted on examining the cut so unlikely you are in administration. Not a nurse; no one hires a foreign nurse, no need. So, based on those facts and the way you naturally analyze your surroundings, I am guessing something in research. I feel that is sufficient information, don’t you think?”  
“Okay...so you know things about me...but I know nothing about you.”  
“Come now....judging by the crumbs on your dress, you have spent most of the afternoon with Mrs. Hudson and she, no doubt, told you much about me.”  
Melody tried to argue but he was absolutely right. Seeing no possible objections, she finally gave in,  
“Okay, you’re right. I do need a place to live and I work so much I probably won’t be here a lot anyway. I will get my stuff and move in tomorrow.”  
Sherlock just nodded his head and Melody made her way down the stairs and out the door; this could be quite an interesting experience.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next few weeks, John began making his visits to Jessie’s bakery a regular thing; once he got off work at the clinic, he would make his way over where she would have a nice cuppa and plate of biscuits waiting for him. Shortly after his arrival, she closed up shop for the day and the two of them sat chatting for hours. Their conversations ranged in topic from favorite foods to taste in music to personal histories. Jessie occasionally tried to bring up the Sherlock thing but she could tell John wasn’t ready to talk about it and she never wanted to push him.  
One day, as they were talking, John finally said,  
“So, I never did ask you how you came to discover my blog.”  
“Well, actually, one of the victims from A Study In Pink used to be a regular customer of mine. A few months after his murder, another regular of mine who also knew him, came in and told me about your blog. I was curious so that night I checked it out; after that, I couldn’t stop reading it. The cases were always so interesting and I loved reading about the dynamic between you and Sherlock.”  
“I’m not gay!”  
“What? No! I never said you were...I’m not talking about that kind of dynamic; it is an obvious friendship.”  
“Really?”  
“Of course. I mean, I know you kept the blog fairly focused on Sherlock and the cases but the friendship between you two was just wonderful. It’s clear he cared a great deal about you.”  
“He did?”  
“Yes...you really don’t see that?”  
“Not really, no.”  
“Of course he did. And you obviously care about him. Honestly, the biggest thing that blog made apparent to me was just how much you two needed each other.”  
“Oh I don’t think Sherlock needs me. He doesn’t need anyone.”  
“That’s not true. He may bring the mental observations and stuff like that to the cases but you bring the heart. There is no way Sherlock would have been able to solve those cases without you; you care enough to look at the personal details of people that he often doesn’t notice.”  
“And you really believe that?”  
“I do. I mean, yes your blog illustrated that Sherlock Holmes is a great and intelligent man. But so are you. I admit that I was quite sad when you stopped writing the blog, although I understand why you did. Actually, that blog helped me through a really rough time. Once my fiancé passed, I went back to them, reading them over and over. I guess I even have to admit I developed a sort of crush on you through them.”  
John looked up from his tea at this comment, staring at her as she continued,  
“And I realize now that there was no need for me to say that out loud. I’m sorry. We have a good friendship and I don’t want to make things awkward. Forget I said anything.”  
John continued sipping his tea for a moment, pondering what Jessie had just said.  
“So,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “would you say that, after meeting me, you might still have that crush? Or did I just completely destroy the illusion?”  
Jessie glanced over, smiling at him.  
“No, I would say that meeting you in person and getting to know you the way I have...has only strengthened those feelings, to be honest.”  
“Jessie,” he said, reaching across the table and taking her hand, “would you like to go to dinner with me?”  
She turned her hand over, intertwining her fingers with his,  
“Yes, I would love to.”  
They smiled at each other again, continuing to hold hands as their conversation continued. Eventually, Jessie had to start preparing things for the next day so John decided to head back to his own flat. As he took the cab home, he thought about how excited he was for his date with Jessie. Admittedly, he had started liking her the first day they met but he wasn’t sure she would be ready to date after losing her fiancé only a year before; he was glad she was giving him a chance and he prayed he wouldn’t blow it.


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later, Mycroft, Sherlock’s brother, was sitting in the flat, discussing a matter of national importance that he wanted Sherlock to help him with. However, their conversation was soon interrupted by Melody coming down the stairs; Mycroft stared at the redheaded girl in the skimpy bathrobe, a towel flung over her arm. Without a word, she vanished into the bathroom and the men heard the shower turn on. Mycroft returned his attention to Sherlock with a new topic to discuss,  
“Sherlock, who was that? Don’t tell me you have a girlfriend.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous. That is my flatmate, Melody.”  
“Your flatmate? You live with a woman now?”  
“Yes. Although I’m not entirely sure why you care.”  
“I don’t. I just think it shall be an interesting experience for you.”  
“How would you know? You’ve never lived with a woman either. There is nothing different about this. We live in the same space and I see her at the hospital when I’m working there.”  
“The hospital? Another doctor then?”  
“No, did you not observe her? She’s in research, working on developing a new antibiotic. She came here from America a year ago, requested specifically by the hospital for a special set of skills she possesses in the field.”  
Mycroft studied his brother for a moment, analyzing his facial expressions.  
“Sherlock, is it possible you have feelings for this girl? The one you say is just your flatmate?”  
Sherlock’s eyes flared at his brother, shocked he would even suggest such a thing.  
“I have respect for her intelligence; it doesn’t mean I have any sort of feelings for her. Now, if you will just leave, I have important things to do.”  
“Fine, but I think it shall be interesting to see what becomes of you and Melody as you continue living in such close quarters with each other.”  
And with that, Mycroft picked up his umbrella, heading out of the flat and onto the street. A few moments later, Melody emerged from her shower; she went up to her room and came back down in sweats, moving to the kitchen as she started pulling ingredients and pots and pans out of cupboards. Sherlock looked up from a piece of paper he appeared to be studying, giving her an inquisitive look.  
“What are you doing?” he asked.   
“Making dinner.”  
“What for?”   
“To eat. You know...normal people eat. Cooking is also my stress relief; I do it quite a lot which you would know if you were ever here.”  
Sherlock returned to his paper as Melody continued mixing things together, throwing some vegetables into a pan with some garlic and oil. After a moment, she continued,  
“I swear, I see you more at the hospital than I ever do here.”  
“Does that bother you?”  
“No, not really. I mean, for me to see you there, it means I have to be there too so I can’t really say much. Honestly, I am the last person to comment on someone working too much since I am pretty much married to my work.”  
Sherlock smirked at this comment, watching her move about the kitchen. Not much more was said between them as she continued cooking, filling the flat with delicious smells. Once the meal was prepared, she dished out three plates, leaving one on the table for Sherlock, knowing he probably wouldn’t eat it; the other she took down to Mrs. Hudson, who was always a fan of her cooking it seemed. Returning to the living room, Melody ate in silence, washing the dishes afterwards and heading upstairs to do some more research.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day, Melody was in the kitchen again, washing dishes from her latest meal, when she heard someone enter the flat,  
“Sherlock! Are you here?”  
Melody poked her head around the corner, taking in the fairly tall man who had just entered; nice shirt and pants, greying hair. Noticing her, he came around the corner, joining her in the kitchen,   
“Umm...is Sherlock here?”  
“Yeah, he’s just in the shower; he should be out soon.”  
“I’m sorry...I don’t mean to be rude but who are you?”  
“I’m his flatmate, Melody.”  
“Oh, right. Wait, what?”  
“Yes. I moved in a few weeks ago, after his conversation with John didn’t go...well...exactly as planned.”   
“Got it. Right. I’m Detective Inspector Lestrade, by the way. But you can call me Greg.”  
“It’s nice to meet you, Greg.”  
“Likewise. So you say Sherlock will be out in a minute?”  
“Should be. Would you like some tea and biscuits while you wait?”  
“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”  
Greg sat down in the arm chair, gratefully accepting the tea and biscuits Melody offered him a few moments later. Not wanting to be rude to company, she sat in the chair across from him, making polite conversation while Greg waited for Sherlock. As predicted, Sherlock emerged a few minutes later, coming into the living room, only a towel wrapped around his waist.  
“Sherlock!” Melody said, drawing his attention to the fact that she was there, “perhaps you could put on clothes. We have company.”  
Sherlock glanced over at Lestrade,  
“It’s just Grant.”  
“Greg!”  
“Right. Greg. So, what’s the case this time?”  
“How do you know there’s a case? Perhaps I just stopped by for a friendly visit with your lovely new flatmate.”  
Sherlock just gave him a look.  
“Alright. We found a body, death appears to be a heart attack but there are definite indications of murder. Will you come?”  
“Well, seems I have nothing better to do. I’ll be right there; you go on ahead.”  
Greg gave him the address and headed out of the flat, saying goodbye to Melody as he left. Sherlock, suddenly excited, went to his room to put clothes on. Melody called to him,  
“What are you so happy about all of a sudden?”  
“This case! I’ve been waiting for this!”  
“What do you mean you’ve been waiting for this?”  
“Over the last few weeks, there have been several bodies come through the morgue that I found suspicious. They all appeared to die of natural causes but something wasn’t right. Sadly, I had nothing of proof so I just had to wait for the killer to slip up. And now I feel he has.”  
“Okay...well you have fun with your murder case...I’m going to stay here and actually enjoy the fact that I have a night off.”  
Sherlock slipped on his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck; taking a moment, he looked at Melody.  
“Do you want to come?”  
“What?”  
“Do you want to come? I like having an assistant when I’m on a case. Normally it’s John but you have filled his position as my flatmate and I feel you would do just as well here. You have worked in medicine, have an inquisitive mind, and won’t get in the way.”  
Melody tried to argue but she had to admit she was intrigued. Finally caving, she slipped on a coat and followed Sherlock out of the flat, jumping with him into a cab that was taking them to the crime scene; what had she gotten herself into?


	8. Chapter 8

Meanwhile, John was just arriving outside of Jessie’s flat in Notting Hill; he told the cabbie to wait as he approached the entrance to her building and pressed the button for her flat. She buzzed him in and he went up the stairs to her place, knocking on the front door; moments later, she answered, lipstick in hand,  
“Sorry. I am almost ready.”  
Glancing down, she noticed the bouquet of pink roses in his hand,  
“Are those for me?” she asked, incredibly touched.  
“Yes...I...um...remembered you saying they were your favorite.”  
“They’re beautiful. Thank you,” she replied, taking them from him and smelling them before handing them back.   
Directing him to the kitchen, he went to put the flowers in water as she went to finish the last touches on her outfit. He set the vase on the table and glanced around her flat; it was fairly spacious with huge bay windows, an ornate fireplace, and hardwood floors.  
“This is quite a nice place you have here.”  
“Thanks. I fell in love with it from the very moment I saw it when I first moved here; I haven’t dreamed of leaving.”  
Jessie finally emerged from the bathroom and John got a good look at her, taking in her gray pencil skirt, silken blue blouse, and red lipstick.   
“You look beautiful,” he said, smiling at her.   
“Thank you. You are looking pretty handsome yourself,” she replied, looking at his white jumper and black pants.  
“Shall we?” he said, offering her his arm; she linked her elbow through and the two of them made their way down to the cab.   
Soon, the cab pulled up at the entrance to a restaurant called First Floor.  
“Have you ever been here?” John asked, helping her out of the car.  
“No, but I’ve always wanted to.”  
He led them inside and they were soon seated at a table; John ordered them a bottle of wine and they sat sipping, waiting for their food to arrive. It was an awkward dinner at first; neither of them were really sure what to say as they transitioned from being friends to more than friends. However, once the food arrived and a glass of wine had been drunk by each, conversation soon flowed freely as they smiled and flirted across the table. After sharing a dessert and polishing off the bottle of wine, John paid and led Jessie back out into the street.  
“So,” he began, “I was thinking we could walk over the cinema? Take in a film?”  
“That sounds like a great idea.”  
Taking her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers, John walked them over to the nearby theater, buying two tickets to the new period film that had just come out. They found seats and settled in for the film. As the lights went down, Jessie nestled her head on John’s shoulder and, after a moment of hesitation, he placed his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him; they remained like this for the duration of the film. Afterwards, the two of them left the theater, once again holding hands as they walked down the street towards her flat. They went inside and John led her to the front door. For a moment, they just stood there, Jessie fiddling with her keys but not making a move to open her door yet.  
“I had a wonderful time tonight, John. Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome. I had a wonderful time as well. Would you maybe like to do this again sometime?”  
“I would love that.”  
John hesitated a moment, looking at her,  
“Jessie,” he began, “I hope you don’t think me too forward but...can I kiss you goodnight?”  
Jessie nodded her head, smiling shyly at him. Stepping closer to her, he placed his hand on her chin, using his fingers to tilt her lips towards his. He then brought his lips to hers, kissing her sweetly as her hands came to rest on the fabric of his jumper; he deepened the kiss, moving his hand to the side of her face and wrapping the other around her waist to pull her closer. Finally, he pulled away from her, leaning his forehead against hers.  
“Goodnight Jessie,” he whispered, eyes still closed.  
“Goodnight John,” she replied, eyes also closed.  
Placing one more lingering kiss on her lips, John headed down the stairs and out the front door; he hailed a cab, taking it back to his flat. As they fell asleep that night, both John and Jessie were wearing smiles that just would not go away.


	9. Chapter 9

The cab containing Melody and Sherlock pulled up in front of the hospital; they went downstairs, meeting Lestrade and Molly in the morgue. On the table lay a woman, about mid-fifties; Sherlock immediately went over and began to examine her as Lestrade explained,  
“Her husband was away on business; he came back and found her collapsed in the kitchen. He immediately brought her here but it was obviously too late. The cause of death was a heart attack.”  
Sherlock circled the body, examining each and every part,  
“But you clearly believe it was something else?”  
“Oh no, I think it was a heart attack but I think it wasn’t a natural one. Just look at her neck.”  
Sherlock moved the woman’s hair out of the way, his gloves glancing over the skin on the side of her neck as he examined her.  
“Melody, come look at this and tell me what you see.”  
Melody walked over, putting on gloves of her own and examining the skin,  
“That’s a latex rash; I’d know that anywhere.”  
“Precisely. Lestrade, there have recently been a number of corpses in this morgue I had found suspicious though their deaths seemed to be of natural causes. Yet I had no proof of a killer and needed him to make a mistake. Now we have one.”  
“I agree. But what is the mistake?”  
“This person did die of a heart attack, yes, caused by some kind of injection made in her neck. The murderer obviously did not want this death to come under suspicion but he forgot to take into account her latex allergy. The gloves he used to avoid fingerprints might be his undoing in this case. Now, Melody, if you will come back to the flat with me, I’d like to go over some notes I made regarding the other bodies. Lestrade, thank you for your time; I will be in touch.”  
Sherlock and Melody headed towards the door as Lestrade called after him,  
“Is that it then? I just wait for your conclusions?”  
But he received no answer as the two flatmates got into a cab, headed back to Baker Street. Melody was still unsure exactly what she had gotten herself into but she knew she had a long night of research ahead of her.


	10. Chapter 10

About a week later, John and Jessie were out on their second date. Although they had seen each other almost every day this week, they didn’t usually get a chance to do anything since it was mostly John visiting Jessie at her bakery, just like he did before. But that Saturday night, John finally got the chance to take Jessie out again. He arrived at her flat, knocking on the front door once she buzzed him in. When she answered, John had to take a moment before greeting her, just looking in stunned silence at how beautiful she looked in her vintage little black dress; as before, her lips were accented in red lipstick. Finally, he got his composure,  
“Wow...you look fantastic,” he said, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her to kiss her, “I feel horrifically underdressed now.”  
Jessie looked at him in his khakis, button up shirt, and jumper, smiling at him,  
“I think you look dashing.”  
Blushing slightly, he took her hand and the two of them walked downstairs and out into the street. The place John had chosen that night was a bar called The Lonsdale and it was within walking distance to Jessie’s place. Once inside, they had a seat at the bar; Jessie ordered a Raspberry Mule while John ordered something called Blood and Sand which consisted mostly of whiskey. For several hours, they sat sipping on their drinks, eventually ordering a second round.   
It was getting later when John finally paid and they made their way back to Jessie’s flat. After kissing her, John turned to leave but Jessie stopped him,  
“Do you maybe want to come in for another drink? We could watch a film or something too.”  
“I’d like that,” John said, following her into the flat; he sat down on her couch as she poured them each a glass of red wine. Joining him, she selected a movie and together they snuggled up on the couch. As the previews played, Jessie turned to John, asking,  
“So, have you talked to Sherlock yet?”  
“Why on earth would I have talked to him?”  
“Because he’s your best friend.”  
“Well, that remains to be seen right now. I’m still angry with him.”  
“I know. And I understand why completely. But I think it would still do you good to talk things out with him. He did apologize. And I bet he misses you.”  
“Oh I highly doubt that.”  
“I don’t. He really does care for you; I’ve told you that already.”  
“Well he has a funny way of showing it.”  
“Is anything he does ever really normal? You are his friend John and I am sure that it bothers him to have you angry with him.”  
“Well I waited two years; maybe he can understand how it feels.”  
“I know. Just...I think you should think about it.”  
“Ok...I’ll think about it.”  
The film began and John and Jessie sat sipping their wine, finally setting their glasses down and cuddling into each other’s arms as they watched; occasionally their viewing was interrupted by the exchange of many kisses, John still not able to get enough of this incredible girl he had met. Admittedly, that was another reason he was hesitant to talk to Sherlock again; his relationships never seemed to last when Sherlock was in his life. But Jessie was different and she really did seem to admire Sherlock as well; maybe things would be different this time.  
Finally, the film ended and John and Jessie slowly rose from the couch, turning off the telly. It was quite late at this point and they were both sleepy. Jessie walked over to where John was standing by the sofa. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she told him,  
“You can stay here if you like. I mean, my bed is definitely big enough and, I don’t know about you, but I enjoy cuddling while I sleep. So, want to spend the night?”  
“I would love too,” he replied, gazing down at her and placing a kiss on her forehead. Together, they headed to the bedroom; John stripped down to his pants while Jessie went into the bathroom and changed into a large t-shirt. She returned to the bedroom, turning out the light as she joined John beneath the covers. After kissing each other breathless, Jessie rolled over as John put his arm around her middle, spooning her; both knew they wanted to take things slow physically. In mere moments, they had drifted off to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

One evening, a few nights later, Sherlock and Melody were sitting in their flat; Sherlock was laying on the couch, palms pressed together under his chin while Melody was writing down a bunch of research notes as she sat in the big green chair. Melody glanced over at Sherlock, a bit concerned since he hadn’t even moved for hours. Their research into the other corpses Sherlock found suspicious had proved useless since anything of merit would have most likely been found at the crime scene rather than on the bodies themselves. Right now, all Sherlock could do is wait and Melody knew it was driving him crazy, watching him spend his days in silence, as he was now, or playing his violin.   
Melody had just turned back to her research when Lestrade came up the stairs, entering the flat in an apparent hurry.   
“There’s been another one,” he gasped, looking at Sherlock; Sherlock jumped off the couch, simply nodding at the Detective Inspector who vanished out the door. Quickly putting on his coat and scarf, he looked at Melody as he popped his collar; she was following him out the door in minutes.  
They arrived at the crime scene, an office building, in no time at all. After crossing the police line, Sherlock and Melody were directed to a back stairwell where a body was laying face down at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Sherlock instantly pulled on a pair of gloves and began examining the scene. After looking at the body thoroughly, he went carefully up the stairs, looking at each one, looking down them, up them, analyzing each angle. He reached the top and rubbed his finger on something on the floor before standing up and looking down at the dead man on the floor; he signalled for Melody to join him. She walked up the stairs and looked down at the body the same way he was.  
“It’s too perfect,” she said.  
“Precisely what I was thinking,” Sherlock replied.  
“Wait...what’s too perfect?” Lestrade asked from the bottom of the stairs; Sherlock didn’t feel like explaining something so obvious so Melody stepped in.  
“The body...the way he is lying...it’s too perfect like someone posed him. If he had really just tripped down the stairs, his limbs would be laying at a much less organized angle...and there would be blood and more broken bones than just his neck. No, someone placed him there.”  
“You mean someone murdered him and put him here?”  
“Yes,” Sherlock spoke up, “but they clearly wanted to make it look like he tripped. Look, scuff marks here, made to look like this gentleman got his shoe stuck on the floor than fell forward. However, the material on the sole of that man’s shoes doesn’t match this mark here. Someone else made this mark. This man was dead long before he was brought here, most likely arsenic poisoning or some such thing, difficult to trace if you’re not looking for it, and was specifically placed here before the murderer made the mark with his own shoe.”  
Sherlock collected a sample from the mark, placing it in a bag and heading back down the stairs.  
“I will take this back to the lab and be in touch,” he said to Lestrade, “Come on Melody; we have research to do.”  
Melody shrugged and smiled at Greg as she followed Sherlock back to the street, getting in a cab with him and heading back to Baker Street for another night of research.


	12. Chapter 12

Over the next few weeks, Melody found herself quite bored; her anti-biotic was undergoing some trials and, other than a few short visits to monitor results, she didn’t have anything to do at the hospital. There was nothing for her to do at the flat either. Sherlock was distracted with the case but didn’t really need her help since he spent most of his time deep in thought. So, to keep herself busy, she puttered around the flat, cooking and cleaning and spending vast amounts of time with Mrs. Hudson, one person she found she could actually stand.  
After about a week of this, Greg Lestrade popped his head into the flat; he was looking for Sherlock for an update on the case. However, he only found Melody; she was in the kitchen, moving around and humming to herself as she made scones and gravy and bacon, an admittedly American tradition she had maintained when she moved. She was just removing some of the pastries from the oil when she heard Lestrade come in,  
“Oh, hi Greg,” she said, continuing her cooking, “Can I interest you in some breakfast?”  
“Um...sure. Thank you. Is Sherlock here?”  
“No, I think he’s at the hospital, doing some kind of experiment today.”  
“Oh, I was hoping for an update with the case.”  
“Don’t think there is one. At least none that he has mentioned, not that he actually tells me these kinds of things.  
Greg sat down at the table as Melody finished up the meal and brought him a steaming plate. They sat in silence for a bit, consuming their food; Greg found he rather enjoyed it actually. Once they were finished, Melody began clearing the table and doing the dishes after putting some hot water on for tea. Greg leaned back in his chair, saying,  
“I’m surprised you’re not at the hospital today.”  
“Yeah...my antibiotic is in trials right now so not much for me to do really. So I spend most of my day reading or cooking or cleaning.”  
“Bet Sherlock appreciates having someone around the flat to do those kinds of things.”  
“I am not sure he even notices actually.”  
“Yeah, I guess that does make sense; he really has a one-track mind when he is focused on a case.”  
“I worry about him sometimes; I’m pretty sure he hasn’t slept in days.”  
“Sounds about right for Sherlock. So, don’t you have a boyfriend or friends or someone you could get together with? Occupy your time?”  
“Don’t have either actually. My work keeps me so busy I just don’t have the time, especially for a boyfriend.”  
“Well, that’s a shame. You’re a beautiful girl, intelligent, a great cook; man would be lucky to have someone like you in his life.”  
“Yeah, you would think. But in my experience, every man I have met gets repelled by how into my work I am; they end up dumping me pretty quickly when they find out just how little free time I actually have. Really made me swear off dating. Anyway, what about you? I imagine attractive Detective Inspectors such as yourself would have no trouble finding an amazing girl to date.”  
“Well thank you but actually, I am single and intent on staying that way.”  
“Why is that?”  
“Fairly recently divorced actually. Wife cheated on me...multiple times. We finally split and I decided to just take some time for myself.”  
“That makes sense.”  
At that moment, their conversation was cut short by Sherlock entering the flat; he lay down on the couch and, with a quick glance at the people in the room, stated,  
“Get out, I need to think.”  
His hands went below his chin and suddenly he was in a deep trance it seemed. Knowing it was no use to bother him in this state, Melody quickly finished with the dishes as Greg put his coat back on,  
“Well, I really better get back to the office. It was nice chatting with you Melody.”  
“Likewise. Feel free to drop by anytime.”  
“I just might take you up on that,” he said with a smile, walking out the door and down the stairs; Melody finished up her dishes and retreated to her room for another long afternoon of reading.


	13. Chapter 13

A few days later, John and Jessie were sitting at their usual table at their favorite cafe, having dinner; they were happy in their relationship and both amazed at how well they fit together. Just as John was paying the bill, his phone went off,  
“I need you-SH”  
John put his phone away; Jessie just gave him an odd look as it went off again.  
“Urgent. Come quickly-SH”  
Once again, John put his phone away and continued with what he was doing; it went off a third time.  
“Murder, John, murder.-SH”  
“Who is it?” Jessie asked, although the look on her boyfriend’s face was enough to tell her exactly who was texting him.   
“Sherlock says he needs my help with a murder.”  
“You should go.”  
“Why?”  
“Because this is his way of trying to mend things between you two and you know it. I know you are still upset with him and that’s fine but stop being so stubborn and go help him.”  
Jessie then reached across the table, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it,  
“Please? For me?”  
John was powerless to resist his beautiful girlfriend and sighed as they got up from the table. After seeing her home and promising to come back later, he hopped in a cab, giving the driver the address Sherlock had texted him.  
Before long, the cab was pulling up at a small house just outside London; it looked normal enough from the outside but one glance past the police tape showed that the house was completely burned on the inside. John waved at Lestrade just as Sherlock came out from the house, a beautiful redhead following close behind him,  
“John,” he said, greeting his old friend, “Glad you could make it. I need you to confirm something.”  
“That’s it? That’s how we’re doing this? No apology? Nothing? Just jumping right back in?”  
Sherlock paused, looking at his friend,  
“John, I tried to apologize before but you wouldn’t listen. So please accept this as my apology.”   
As much as John tried to deny it, he knew this was how Sherlock worked and it was as good as he was going to get; he felt they still had much to talk about but that could be done later. John nodded his agreement to Sherlock who then started leading him towards the house; the redhead continued following.  
“Um Sherlock...who is this?”  
“Oh, that is my flatmate Melody.”  
“Flatmate? You live with a woman now?”  
“Yes. Why is everyone so shocked by this?”  
Melody shook John’s hand before all three of them wandered into the house; John looked at the complete destruction before him, including the person burned alive in their bed.  
“Official police report says that the fire was started by something in the kitchen. Smoke alarm was out of batteries. Person never woke up and burned to death in their bed,” Sherlock explained.  
“Okay...so why do you need me?”  
“Because that story doesn’t fit with how this house appears. Take a good look John; I think I need your military background on this.”  
“What exactly am I looking at?”  
“The burn marks...the way the place is scorched.”  
John began looking at the walls, the rooms, the furniture.  
“I know these kinds of burns,” he began, “these were done by a military grade flamethrower; I have no doubt.”   
“Yes, that is what I was thinking but I needed you to confirm it. Our man is getting sloppy,” Sherlock said, partially to himself and partially to Melody it seemed.  
“This has happened before?” John asked.  
“Not this particularly but yes. There has been a recent series of murders that were meant to look like natural deaths or accidents; we are definitely dealing with a serial killer. This is getting interesting.”  
Sherlock wandered out of the house, followed closely by John and Melody. Without a word, he got in a cab, leaving those two behind.  
“Well,” John began, “I best be getting back to my girlfriend...now...I guess.”  
“Yes, um, sorry Sherlock dragged you all the way out here for this.”  
“I’m used to it really.”  
“I know. He does miss you...by the way. You should call him sometime,” Melody said, as she went to hail her own cab.  
“Perhaps I will,” John said, a small smile on his face. It had been good to be on a crime scene again with Sherlock but he didn’t want to dwell on the implications just yet. Right now, all he really wanted to do was go to his wonderful girlfriend’s flat and spend the remainder of the evening in her arms.


	14. Chapter 14

John got back to Jessie’s flat and knocked on the door; he heard her yell for him to come in. He opened the door and walked in, taking off his shoes and jacket. However, he saw no sign of his girlfriend,  
“Jessie! Where are you?”  
“Be out in a moment.”  
“I have had quite a night. All I really want to do is curl up in front of...”  
But his speech was cut short when Jessie stepped out of the bedroom, wearing nothing but a sheer blue nightgown that concealed nothing at all and a pair of blue, lacy, knickers.   
“I...um...what’s this all about?” John managed to stammer out.  
“Well,” Jessie said, approaching him and running her hands up his chest, “I knew you might be a little stressed after the Sherlock thing and could probably use some relaxing. Plus, you have been so patient with me so far...never pushing me...I thought I would reward that tonight.”  
Standing on her toes, she pressed her lips to John’s as his arms came around her middle; they continued kissing eagerly as he began walking her towards the bedroom, her fingers moving to the buttons on his shirt and starting to undo them. They got to the bedroom and Jessie removed John’s shirt over his shoulders, her lips moving to his neck as she began to kiss and suck down his skin. Breathing heavily already, John moved them over to the bed, his hands slipping beneath the sheer fabric to caress her chest as she returned her mouth to his, her tongue exploring his mouth. While Jessie moved to work on removing John’s pants, he took the nightgown over her head, his lips moving down her neck and his hand moving to the spot on her spine he had quickly discovered drove her crazy. Eventually, Jessie got his pants off, leaving them in only their undergarments; Jessie flipped them over and straddled John, grinding her hips against his, feeling his excitement grow. John just stared up at her,  
“You are so beautiful. I think I must be the luckiest man in the world.”  
Jessie smiled, answering his compliment with a kiss as her hands reached down, removing the two final garments between them. Flipping them back over, John then spent the remainder of the night making love to her, giving them both much satisfaction multiple times over until they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms.


	15. Chapter 15

About a week later, on a Saturday, Melody was enjoying a relaxing night alone in the flat, fire blazing and rain pattering on the window while she read. It wasn’t that she disliked Sherlock being there but it was nice to have a night to herself, especially since Sherlock had been relentless about the case, rambling about his theories to her. She was also happy because Sherlock was out on a pub crawl with John and she felt it would do him good.   
Sometime around ten, the doorbell rang. Mrs. Hudson was out of town so Melody stood to answer it; she was shocked to find Sherlock on the other side. Along with Sherlock was John and a short girl with brown hair who Melody assumed was John’s girlfriend; it was obvious both men were drunk, Sherlock more than John.  
“Hi,” the girl said, introducing herself, “I’m Jessie. Sorry to disrupt your evening but John said this is where Sherlock lives.”  
“Yes, yes, I’m his flatmate, Melody. Nice to meet you.”  
“I apologize for the state he’s in; actually you can blame John for that one.”  
“That’s okay; I’ll make sure he gets safely to bed.”  
“Great. Well sorry to leave him and run but I’m going to get this one home and to bed,” she said, putting her hand on John’s chest.  
John finally turned from his side conversation with Sherlock and gazed at his girlfriend, saying to Melody,   
“I’m dating this one.”  
He then turned back to Sherlock,   
“I’m dating this one, Sherlock. And I love her. And I love her even more because she not only tolerates you, she actually likes you.”  
John then smiled at Jessie, leaning in to kiss her.  
“Okay,” she said, backing away a bit, “We are finding you a mint when we get in the cab. Anyway, sorry to duck out like this, Melody. Good luck with this one.”  
Taking John’s hand, Jessie led him over to a waiting cab as Sherlock stumbled into Baker Street. With him leaning on Melody, they slowly made their way up the stairs and into Sherlock’s room. He started to work on the buttons on his purple shirt but Melody could tell he was having issues. Sighing, she went over to him, moving his hands aside as she undid the buttons; she had just gotten them all undone and was sliding the shirt off his shoulders when she noticed a familiar look on his face.  
“Bathroom now!” she commanded.   
He politely nodded his head, excusing himself, and walked to the bathroom; a moment later, Melody heard the water turn on and knew he must be brushing his teeth. He returned to the bedroom just as she was pulling the covers back. After Melody helped his remove his trousers, Sherlock dropped his pants and, naked, crawled into bed.  
“Yeah, this seems normal for flatmates,” Melody muttered to herself as she left the room. She went up to her room, throwing on a tank top and pajama shorts. As she was climbing into bed she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she should keep an eye on Sherlock that night. Going back downstairs, she went into Sherlock’s room, finding him already fast asleep as she crawled into bed with him.  
Meanwhile, the cab pulled up in front of Jessie’s flat; Jessie got out, helping John out after her. Together, they made their way up to her flat, John continuing to press kisses to her cheek, hair, and neck. Eventually they made it upstairs and John made his way to the bedroom while Jessie got him a glass of water; she set it down on the side table and stripped off her clothes to join him in bed. The moment she laid down, John rolled to her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing down her neck.   
“Jessie,” he slurred into her skin, “I love you. I love you a lot.”  
Jessie smiled as he continued to kiss her.  
“I love you too, John,” she replied; they both drifted off to sleep in a matter of moments.


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning, Sherlock woke up, head pounding and mouth dry. Slowly, he rolled over, surprised that the arm he had flopped over landed on something warm and curvaceous. He glanced over and realized Melody was in the bed with him; she was probably making sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit in his sleep. Rolling back over, he promptly fell back asleep. A few hours later, he woke again to find himself alone in the bed this time. Downing the water Melody left on the table, Sherlock wrapped the bed sheet around him and wandered into the kitchen. There, he found Melody cooking something on the stove. He stared at her for a moment, watching her, before finally speaking hesitantly,  
“Thank you...for...taking care of me last night.”  
Melody turned from the stove, wiping her hands on her apron,  
“You’re welcome. You are definitely not the first drunk person I have taken care of. Nor will you be the last. Now, I have created the best hangover cure known to man and I refuse to hear you say you aren’t eating. So sit down.”  
Sherlock raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t protest, sitting at the table as she set a plate of food down in front of him. Going back to the stove, she made a plate for herself and joined him. They ate in silence with Sherlock stealing occasional glances at his flatmate; he refused to admit his brother was right about her.


	17. Chapter 17

A few weeks later, a small group was gathered at 221B Baker Street for a Christmas party. Since the drunk incident, John and Sherlock had spent more time together, leading to Jessie and Melody hanging out more as well; it didn’t take them long to conclude that they should host a holiday celebration together, despite Sherlock’s mild protests. All the details were quickly agreed upon and everyone was enjoying themselves. Mrs. Hudson and Molly were chatting pleasantly in one corner while John and Jessie sipped on their drinks as they caught up with Lestrade. Melody, meanwhile, bustled around the flat, cleaning dishes, refilling drinks, and generally just keeping herself busy; it had been a rough week back to work and she preferred not to dwell on it. Sherlock, as usual, sat silently observing in his chair.  
Partway through the party, John had gone over to talk with Sherlock so Jessie just sat on the sofa, sipping her drink and choosing to observe the party for awhile. However, she was soon interrupted from her reveries by Mrs. Hudson, who joined her on the sofa, glass of wine in hand.  
“Lovely party, dear.”  
“Thank you Mrs. Hudson. Melody and I are glad you could make it.”  
“Of course. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. So how are you and John doing, dear?”  
“We’re wonderful. I love him so much.”  
“That’s great to hear. I’m so glad he found someone; I’ve never seen him happier. These last few years have been rough on him. I think he needs you in his life.”  
“Well, I know I need him in mine,” Jessie replied, sending a loving gaze towards John, who smiled back at her, “After my fiancé died, I never thought I could open up to someone like that again; then I met John.”  
Mrs. Hudson smiled at her, taking a sip of her wine. The two women sat chatting for awhile as the party continued.  
Eventually, the party began to die down. John and Jessie went home, wanting some alone time. Mrs. Hudson, feeling sleepy from her wine, wandered back downstairs to her flat to go to bed. Back at the party, Greg had sat down in the chair across from Sherlock. Melody, realizing there was nothing more to do to keep her busy, went over and sat in Greg’s lap; they had become pretty close during Greg’s visits in her time off. Molly, who was also preparing to leave, noticed Sherlock watching Melody, noticed the way he was analyzing her as she sat in Greg’s lap with his arms around her waist. It was a look Molly recognized well, one she knew she had directed at Sherlock many times. Sherlock was changed after being away for two years but was it really possible he had developed romantic feelings for someone? Molly put on her coat, deciding to observe their interactions at the hospital more closely now.   
After saying goodbye to Molly, the three remaining people sat chatting and sipping their scotch. Sherlock suddenly seemed more irritable than usual and excused himself to bed shortly after finishing his drink. Once the door closed, Greg turned to the woman in his lap,  
“Okay, what’s wrong?”  
“What do you mean? Why do you think there’s something wrong?”  
“Because you’ve barely stopped moving all night. Not to mention there is a bigger feast in the kitchen than in A Christmas Carol! So what’s going on?”  
Melody grabbed the bottle of scotch, pouring her and Greg another glass. She took a big sip, sighing before finally saying,  
“I just had a really bad week at work. All of my clinical trials failed so I essentially have to start over with my antibiotic.”  
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”  
“Yeah. Plus Sherlock has been acting really strange lately.”  
“Strange how?”  
“He has been talking to me more at the hospital. And he plays his violin constantly. He seems more and more to be trying to impress me. Plus, I keep catching him staring at me randomly.”  
“Well, Sherlock has never really been what most people would consider normal but that does sound bizarre, even for him. If I didn’t know know any better, I would say he is interested in you. But he’s Sherlock; he’s married to his work.”  
“I certainly hope he’s not interested in me,” Melody replied, polishing off the remainder of her drink, setting her glass down next to Greg’s already empty one, “I really don’t want a relationship. Especially now since apparently I will be working twice as hard on my antibiotic.”  
“I definitely agree with that relationship part,” Greg said, his hand subconsciously stroking Melody’s arm.  
“Of course,” Melody continued, the few drinks she had making her more honest, “there are definitely some parts of a relationship I miss.”  
She then leaned down, kissing Greg’s neck as she slid one hand up his chest; Greg shifted in his seat, trying to hide how turned on he was getting.   
“That is a very good part,” he said, “but are you sure this would be a good idea?”  
“Why wouldn’t it be? Listen, I have had a rough week and honestly it has been quite awhile for me. I imagine it has been some time for you too. How long? Since the divorce?”  
“Six months before actually.”  
“See,” Melody replied, continuing to kiss his neck, “we both want this.”  
Greg sighed as her lips found the skin below his ear; he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this many times. Melody was a beautiful woman. And it had been quite a long time. Relinquishing, Greg slid the hand on Melody’s arm up her side, lightly grazing her chest as it came to rest behind her neck. Her lips left his ear and she pulled back a bit, locking eyes with him for a moment before their lips met. They kissed fervidly, hands wandering and tongues exploring as they realized just how much they both needed this. When they were both equally breathless, Melody stood, drawing Greg out of the chair and leading him upstairs to her room. Once inside, he closed the door, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her to him as their lips found each other once again. Melody slid her hands up Greg’s chest, first removing his tie, then slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. Sliding it over his shoulders, she began letting her hands glide over his skin as her lips kissed down his neck again. Greg then reached down, lifting her dress over her head and moving them towards the bed as they began kissing passionately once more. Melody undid Greg’s trousers, dropping them to the floor before they got onto the bed, Greg crawling over her, nipping at the skin of her neck and collarbone while he reached beneath her to unhook her bra and toss it away. As he began exploring the newly exposed skin of her chest with his tongue, one hand reached down to tease her through the thin lace of her knickers. Moaning loudly, Melody gripped his grey hair, her breath quickening as his mouth moved further down her body. Sliding his thumbs into the sides of her pants, Greg gave her one more inquiring look, removing them when she nodded her head. He then took off his one remaining garment, sliding back up her body and capturing her mouth with his as they both gave in to long-awaited desires. After multiple times of satisfaction for both of them, they finally fell asleep spooning.


	18. Chapter 18

The next morning, Melody awoke to Greg placing soft kisses on her neck,   
“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered against her skin.  
Melody turned over to face him, capturing his lips briefly before saying,  
“Good morning, handsome.”  
Excitement already evident, Greg rolled on top of her, kissing her heatedly and setting off yet another round of passion. Moments later, they got out of bed, both quite satisfied, dressed, and went downstairs. Melody set about making something for breakfast while Greg decided to brew them some tea. They were just sitting down when Sherlock emerged from his room, fully dressed. Entering the kitchen, he paused as he took in the two of them. One could see the wheels in his brain turning as he processed why the Detective Inspector was sitting at their table so early in the morning. Brusquely, he walked past them,  
“Good morning, Greg,” he said.  
“It’s Greg!...oh...”  
“Yes, that’s what I said.”  
“Right...good morning.”  
Greg raised an eye at Melody as Sherlock headed towards the front door; Sherlock never got his name right. After putting on his coat and scarf, the consulting detective turned his attention to his flatmate,   
“I’ll be working at St. Barts today. Perhaps I will see you there later?”  
“Umm...no, it’s my day off actually.”  
Sherlock nodded and headed down the stairs and into the street while Greg and Melody exchanged baffled looks.  
“See,” Melody said, “I told you he was acting strange.”  
“That was definitely odd. Maybe I was right; maybe he does like you.”  
“He does not,” Melody replied, playfully smacking Greg on the arm. Lestrade was about to respond with his phone went off. Answering it, he exchanged brief words with the person on the other end then hung up, rising quickly from the table.  
“What’s going on?” Melody inquired, beginning to clear their dishes.  
“They found another body.”  
“Another of the mysterious murders?”  
“Not sure. The guy was found this morning in the pool. Appears to be suicide but I somehow have my doubts. Sorry to leave so quickly.”  
“It’s no problem. I’m coming with you anyways.”  
“What? Why?”  
“Well, Sherlock has kind of been using me as his assistant on this case. You already texted him, I assume.”  
“Yes. That was a bit scary. Maybe you are a good match for him.”  
Melody just gave him an irritated look as she ran upstairs to put on actual clothes. Moments later, she hurried back down the stairs and she and Greg ran outside, hailing a cab and heading over to the pool turned crime scene. Pushing past the police tape, they found Sherlock already inside, examining the scene. The man’s body still lay in the drained pool, untouched, per the consulting detective’s instructions. As Sherlock examined the body, Melody immediately put on gloves and began looking over the scene around the pool, examining concrete, entryways, everything. Sherlock finally jumped out of the pool, putting away his magnifying glass,  
“The man definitely drowned. Lungs full of water, sunk to the bottom, signs of asphyxiation. The water rid him of any possible fingerprints. If he was murdered, this body won’t tell us anything.”  
“Sherlock look at this.”  
Sherlock ran over to where Melody stood by one of the lockers. There, on the edge of one of the jagged corners was a scrap of fabric. After studying it through his magnifying glass, Sherlock declared,   
“This is most definitely murder.”  
“How do you know? You got murder from a scrap of fabric?” Lestrade asked incredulously.  
“Not just a scrap of fabric. This perfectly matches the piece missing from our victim’s shirt. I noticed beneath the rip was a cut. Due to the appearance of the wound, I dismissed it as old. However, this indicates that the wound was made here, when the man’s body was dragged past these lockers. How do I know he was dead? The cut didn’t bleed. And no, the pool water didn’t simply wash it away. There’s no blood on the locker or the fabric. The cut is deep. There is no possibility of it not bleeding were the man still alive. No. The murderer, or murderers as this particular victim would suggest, drowned the man at home and brought him here. Then they put him in the pool and attempted to make it look like suicide. I have no doubt this is connected to the others.”  
“Wait...murderers? There’s more than one now?”  
“Obviously. Given the angle it would take for him to have ripped his shirt there plus the dead weight of the man himself, he was being carried between two people. Either that or we are dealing with a giant but I don’t exactly see that being our solution, do you?”  
“Alright, alright...so two murderers. Any ideas where to start?”  
“A few. We will see what Molly finds on the body. Meanwhile, Melody and I will take this fabric to the lab and see what we can find on it.”  
“Wait...we?” Melody chimed in.  
“Yes...you know I like having you around to bounce ideas off of. Plus you are quite reasonably intelligent; you might have a fresh theory or two.”  
Greg and Melody exchanged another look at what they knew from Sherlock was a huge compliment. And Melody, not really having any other plans for her day off, agreed to go with Sherlock. Leaving Greg to deal with the crime scene, they hailed a cab and headed off to St. Barts.


	19. Chapter 19

Back at Jessie’s place, the couple was just waking up after the many amorous activities of the night before. Jessie was awake first, throwing on her robe and heading to the kitchen to make coffee. Once it was brewing, she started on her baking for the day. With the holidays right about the corner, she had many orders coming in and she was feeling behind. John kept sleeping for hours as she moved around the kitchen, baking biscuits in huge batches. She was just about to take her second batch out of the oven when disaster struck. Leaning in to grab the baking pan, Jessie wasn’t paying much attention to where exactly her arm was and it came down on the hot rack of the oven. With a loud scream, she dropped the pan, clutching her burned arm. John, hearing her yell and thinking she was in great danger, ran out of the room, lacking clothes.  
“What? What happened? Are you okay?”  
“I burned myself on the oven. Where are your pants?”  
“In the room. I thought you were in trouble. How badly are you burned?”  
“Not horribly,” she replied, running her arm under cold water, “Will you go put on some clothes? The blinds are open.”  
John went back into the bedroom. He returned moments later, fully dressed this time. Grabbing the first aid kit, he had Jessie sit down at the table as he examined the burn. Fortunately, it was contained mostly to her forearm although part of her palm appeared to be burned as well. John applied some burn ointment and wrapped the wound in gauze.  
“There...you should be healed in no time.”  
“Thanks,” Jessie replied, looking gratefully at her boyfriend.  
After placing a sound kiss on John’s lips, Jessie stood to resumer her baking; she didn’t get very far.   
“Ow!” Jessie exclaimed, nearly dropping the pan she was moving, “I can’t even be around the heat. What am I going to do? These need to be made by tomorrow.”  
“I can try to help,” John volunteered.  
“Do you know anything about baking?”  
“Not a thing.”  
“Well, I guess I could just tell you what to do.”  
“That sounds like a plan.”  
Jessie sat down at the table while John took her place in the kitchen. For the next several hours, John baked while Jessie gave him step-by-step instructions. Eventually, John was pulling the last batch from the oven. He set them to cool then both he and Jessie collapsed on the couch. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled his girlfriend into his side, making sure to not hurt her burn.  
“That was actually quite fun,” he said.  
“It was. I could get use to you helping in the kitchen. Maybe I’ll even have you making dinner for me eventually. Have it waiting when I get home.”  
“I could do that.”  
“You know I was joking right?”  
“Yes but what if I’m not? What if, when you got home from work, I had dinner waiting each day?”  
“John, what are you saying?”  
“What I’m saying, in probably the most obscure way possible, is what if I moved in? I mean I know we haven’t been dating very long and I don’t want to rush things but it just seems to feel right. At least to me...it does.”  
Jessie turned her head to look at him.  
“You know, I have been thinking of asking you to move in. I’m glad you brought ti up first. I would love you living here.”  
“Good. Then it’s settled. I will get my stuff this weekend.”  
Then leaning down, John captured Jessie’s lips, kissing her passionately. They kissed each other breathless, excited about this new chapter in their relationship.


	20. Chapter 20

That weekend, John moved his stuff into Jessie’s flat. Once everything was unpacked and put away, the couple settled in to watch a movie. The movie watching, however, was soon abandoned as Jessie leaned up to begin kissing John’s neck. Before long, John was on top Jessie on the couch, his lips moving over hers fervidly as his fingers brushed over the sensitive spot on her spine, causing her to arch against him as she moaned into his mouth. When John finally released her lips, Jessie sat up, moving him off her as she stood from the couch. With a devious look in her eyes, she said,  
“Come into our bedroom in ten minutes.”  
John waited impatiently on the couch as he eagerly counted down the minutes, intrigued by what his girlfriend might have planned. Once the ten minutes was up, he wandered into the bedroom; nothing could have prepared him for the sight awaiting him. There on the bed lay Jessie, dressed in a red button-down blouse and grey, pleated mini-skirt. Her hands were above her head and when John looked closer, he realized she had handcuffed herself to the headboard. John stopped dead in his tracks, just taking in the sight of her.  
“I...um...what’s going on?”  
“Just a little surprise for you. I remembered you saying you enjoyed me telling you what to do in the kitchen and it gave me an idea.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, I’m going to not be able to touch you but I am going to tell you what to do.”  
“Oh...” John replied, understanding sinking in; his excitement became obvious.  
“So...for starters...get over here,” Jessie said with a wicked smile.  
John approached the bed, still unable to get over just how sexy this was.  
“Wait,” he began, “where did you get handcuffs?”  
“Lestrade let me borrow them. Don’t worry; I have the key.”  
John smiled and finally got to the bed and crawled onto it, joining his girlfriend; he looked to her for directions.  
“Now,” she said with a smile, “kiss me.”  
John lowered his mouth to hers, his lips moving against hers as one hand came up to rest on her chest. Briefly, his tongue dipped into her mouth before he moved to kiss down her neck, hand still caressing her through the shirt.  
“Undo the buttons on my shirt,” she commanded, smile still tinting her voice.  
John willingly obliged, his mouth trailing down to her collarbone as his fingers quickly undid her buttons. Once undone, John moved the fabric of her shirt aside. He took a moment to just gaze down at her, his hand brushing lightly over the fabric of her black, lacy, undergarment. John was just about to return his mouth to Jessie’s when she stopped him.  
“No...remove your shirt...and trousers.”  
John then stood from the bed, doing as she said before laying back down again. Looking at her for permission, he then began kissing her passionately again, this time moving his fingers beneath her to play with her spot. Jessie moaned and arched her hips into John’s. His lips then released hers, trailing down her neck to her chest. As he pressed kisses to her cleavage, he heard her whisper,  
“Undo my bra.”  
John reached around her back, beneath her shirt, looking for the clasp; but the fabric was solid.  
“Check the front,” she said flirtatiously.  
John looked down then released the clasp, his lips and fingers instantly exploring this newly exposed skin. He then continued kissing down her body. At her command, John removed her skirt. He returned his lips to hers, kissing her breathless. John then removed their pants, looking down at his beautiful girlfriend.  
“John,” she said, gazing back at him, “make love to me.”  
John kissed her lovingly and passionately, laying himself on top of her to eagerly obey this final command.


	21. Chapter 21

A couple days later, John, Jessie, Sherlock, and Melody all stepped out of a limo in front of a large museum. John and Sherlock looked dashing in their tuxedoes while Jessie and Melody were stunning in long, flowing dresses. Sherlock, in his research, had discovered that all of the victims thus far were listed as major donors to a world hunger charity. That charity was throwing a New Year’s Eve ball for its donors and Sherlock thought it best if they attend in case of any leads to the killer. In order to seem less suspicious, Sherlock had found a way for he and John to pose as donors with the women as their dates.  
Once inside, John and Jessie went their own way, looking forward to a fancy, romantic, evening together. Meanwhile, Sherlock circled the room with Melody, looking for anything suspicious and chatting with the charity’s board members and higher-ups. Melody was surprised at how charming Sherlock could be when he was trying. He was incredibly charismatic and seemed able to get people to open up and confide in him; Melody actually found it rather endearing. Not to mention, he was being the perfect date. From the outside, it definitely looked like her and Sherlock had been together for awhile and that he was the ever-doting boyfriend. Melody began to wonder if there was something to Lestrade’s theory of him being interested in her. And she hated to admit that she was finding his charm irresistible.   
The night continued on and Sherlock was clearly getting more frustrated; there did not appear to be any connection between the charity and the case. Close to midnight, Sherlock had essentially given up the task of interviewing people and turned to Melody,  
“Would you care to dance?”  
“Dance? You can dance?”  
“I actually love to dance. It is a little known fact about me. Do you know how to waltz?”  
“I do, in fact.”  
“Then, let’s dance.”  
Sherlock took Melody’s hand and led her out to the floor. The music began and in no time, Sherlock was gracefully moving with her about the room. John and Jessie, who were watching from afar, were shocked to see the consulting detective moving with such ease; John had never known he could dance like that. As they danced, Melody stared up at her flatmate who she found was gazing at her with a type of fondness she couldn’t recall ever seeing on his face. Why was he being so charming tonight? The last thing she needed to do right now was fall for her flatmate.   
The song soon ended and Sherlock dipped Melody gracefully, righting her just as the crowd began counting down to the new year. There was an awkward moment as they looked at each other. They were supposed to be playing a couple that evening and, in all fairness, they should kiss to keep up the act. Sherlock, ever dedicated to the case, tilted her chin up and began to lean in. Their lips were just about to meet when an ear-piercing scream filled the room. Over by one of the far windows, one of the guests had seen a man falling from the top of the building. Everyone ran outside to find Herman Vanchester, a board member, dead on the sidewalk. It wasn’t long before Lestrade and a team from Scotland Yard was on the scene.   
“So, he just jumped?” Greg asked Sherlock.   
“That is the appearance but I think you and I know better.”  
Melody, Sherlock, and Greg ran up to the roof, inspecting the scene. It didn’t take long to deduce that Herman was clearly pushed. Returning to the ball, they decided to question his wife, Vanessa.  
“I don’t understand,” she said, clearly distraught, “He was a happy man. I can never imagine him contemplating suicide. Especially in such a fashion.”  
Sherlock looked at her with intrigue in his eyes,  
“What do mean in such a fashion?”  
“Well, Herman was terrified of heights. He nearly passed out just looking over balconies of two story buildings. I can’t imagine why he would have been on the roof. I mean, his therapist was working with him on it but I don’t think they would have made enough progress to get him on top of a building without him fainting much less him being able to stand on the edge of the roof.”  
“Therapist?”  
“Yes, Dr. Raymond Unsler. He was working on helping Herman overcome his fear of heights.”  
John and Jessie had approached the four of them at this point and Jessie spoke up,  
“I know Dr. Unsler. He was Michael’s therapist too. Nice guy. I mean, a bit out there sometimes but he seemed to be very knowledgable.”  
Sherlock turned to Jessie.  
“So your fiancé, Michael, was killed in a car accident. And had the same therapist as this man who just committed suicide.”  
“Yes....so...”  
Sherlock didn’t respond, his eyes already distant and processing. Without a word, he grabbed Melody’s hand and dragged her outside, hailing a cab and directing him back to Baker Street. Back at the ball, John and Jessie and Greg just looked at each other in confusion. Knowing it was no use questioning what had just happened, John and Jessie decided to head home and Lestrade set about finishing up his work at the ball.


	22. Chapter 22

About a week later, Melody sat on her bed in her room, reading a novel. It was her day off and she desperately needed it. While she had made great progress in re-doing the antibiotic, it was still slow-going and she was stressed lately. In fact, the only reason she wasn’t cooking or cleaning at that moment was that she had already done all of that; the fridge was full of food and the flat was spotless. So, resorting to reading, she sat on her bed, lost in a plot. She was suddenly interrupted, however, by Sherlock bursting into her room; he never came into her room.  
“What’s going on?” she asked, looking up from her book.  
“I need your help,” he stated matter-of-factly.  
“Has there been another victim?”  
“No, not yet. But I now have a plot to catch our killer.”  
“Okay...what can I do to help?”  
Sherlock walked over and sat on the edge of her bed, another odd thing for him to do.   
“As you know, we know that at least one of our victims was seeing a therapist, the same therapist, in fact, that your friend Jessie’s dead fiancé was seeing before he died. Well, I began doing some research and, as it turns out, all of our victims were seeing this same doctor. Upon interviewing family members and friends of the victims, it holds true that they all died in manners similar to their worst fears. Obviously, this man is killing his patients after learning about them. Therefore, in order to catch him, I need you to pose as one of his patients.”  
“Me? You want me to go see this therapist?”  
“Yes. You will confide in him your recurring nightmares of being strangled to death and, if he holds true to pattern, he will thus attempt to kill you via strangulation. However, Lestrade and I will be waiting to step in and catch him in the act.”  
“Um...okay.”  
“Good. Your first session with him is tomorrow and your alias is Jennifer Goodley.”  
Sherlock then stood abruptly, exiting the room and leaving Melody pondering exactly what she had just agreed to.


	23. Chapter 23

Over the next several weeks, Melody continued to see Dr. Unsler on a regular basis. She could tell Sherlock was getting frustrated with how long this case was taking; he was used to getting cases solved in a matter of days. But he understood that it was important to take things slow with the kind of serial killer they were dealing with. In between her sessions, Sherlock watched how the therapist interacted with Melody. It didn’t take long for him to deduce that the therapist was having her followed, determining when and where she was alone. Eventually, the time was right to set the trap. Since the therapist was having her followed, Sherlock made sure that Melody “casually” dropped into conversation how she would be staying late to work alone in her lab one night. The details were set in place and the trap was soon set. Melody would be working in her lab, essentially waiting for the killer to arrive. Sherlock and Lestrade would be outside, watching for his arrival, then move in to retrieve Melody and catch the killer in the act. The only tricky part was that the therapist would have to actually be attempting to strangle Melody so that Scotland Yard would actually have a case against him.  
That night, Melody was having a final meeting with Sherlock before heading to her lab. Suddenly, she got nervous, realizing that the timing would have to be perfect or she could actually die.   
“Are you sure this is going to work?” she asked Sherlock nervously.  
“Of course it will work.”  
“And you will be able to...um...get in before he...you know...strangles me?”  
Sherlock looked at Melody, suddenly realizing just how scared she was. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked her in the eyes,  
“Melody...this plan will work. I promise I won’t let any harm come to you. Do you trust me?”  
Melody looked into the eyes of her flatmate; he was clearly very concerned about her being okay with this plan. She also saw that he was absolutely sincere about not letting any harm come to her. Suddenly, all the feelings for him she had been suppressing since the ball came rushing to the surface. She could no longer deny that she really did care for him and wanted to be more than just his flatmate. But now was not the time to dwell on that. Once the plan was complete and the killer in police custody, her and Sherlock could perhaps have a conversation about what was going on. In answer to his question, Melody slowly nodded her head, feeling a bit better, and Sherlock smiled.  
“Now, I will go meet Lestrade outside. You just go about your work as usual. It shouldn’t be long before our killer makes his move.  
Sherlock vanished out the front door and Melody made her way to her office, trying her best to look like she was working, although her mind was far from her research.  
It wasn’t long before the therapist arrived. He entered the lab, rope in hand; he intended on making it look like she hanged herself. However, since actually trying to hang her would be unreliable as far as a method of killing her, he had determined to strangle her before setting up the scene. Before Melody had a chance to defend herself, Dr. Unsler had moved in, wrapping the rope around her neck and pulling it tight, cutting off her oxygen. The plan had been for Sherlock and Lestrade to rush in mere seconds after she was being attacked. But, as Melody felt her vision blurring, they had yet to appear. Melody wondered if the therapist had gotten to them too. This was the last thought she had right before blacking out.   
Outside, Sherlock and Lestrade saw the therapist sneak into the building. They knew it wouldn’t be long before the man reached Melody. After a few seconds of waiting until they were sure the murderer would be out of site, they ran into the building. They ran for a lab that Sherlock was sure was hers. But she wasn’t there. In a panic, he looked around, wondering if the killer had taken her elsewhere.  
“Where is she?!” he demanded, worried that he wouldn’t reach her in time.  
“Wait,” Lestrade said, running in his mind over the route they had taken in the hospital, “her lab is in the other wing!”  
The two men took off at a sprint towards the other wing, begging they weren’t too late. Bursting through the door of the lab Lestrade was certain Melody had told him belonged to her, they saw Melody being strangled by the rope. She had just gone unconscious when Lestrade attacked the doctor, knocking him to the floor as his grip released the hold on the rope around Melody’s neck. As Lestrade struggled with the killer, Sherlock rushed to Melody’s side. He checked her breathing and heart beat, relieved to find she was still alive. At Sherlock’s prompting, it was only seconds before she regained consciousness, gasping and coughing. Sherlock held Melody to him, trying to calm her down; never had he been so scared of losing someone before.   
Eventually, Dr. Unsler was subdued and taken into custody by Lestrade. Sherlock, after helping Melody calm down, took her upstairs to be checked out. Her neck would be bruised for quite awhile but there didn’t seem to be any permanent damage. Once Melody was given the okay, Sherlock took her home. He insisted she sleep in his bed with him because he wanted to keep an eye on her and make sure she was okay. They were soon beneath the covers and Melody, after such a traumatizing day, drifted off into a deep sleep. Sherlock, however, was wide awake, his mind racing. It was impossible to deny his emotions over the idea of losing Melody; he would need to talk with John as soon as possible about what he was feeling and what he should do about it.


	24. Chapter 24

The next day, Sherlock asked John to get lunch with him at the cafe downstairs. Once they were seated, Sherlock got right to point.  
“I think I have feelings for Melody.”  
“You think?”  
“Yes. I find myself missing her, I care about what she thinks of me, and I find my heart beats slightly faster when she is close to me. You seem to have more experience in this area than I do. What should I do next?”  
“Well, normal people would ask the person out to dinner or to grab coffee or something.”  
“You’re suggesting a date?”  
“Yes, Sherlock, ask her out on a date.”  
“John, you are perfectly aware I have no time for a girlfriend. I am married to my work and it always comes first. Not to mention, I find emotional attachment an unnecessary distraction.”  
“I know that is how you have felt in the past but Sherlock, you and Melody are essentially a couple already anyway. I mean, you spend a ton of time together, you live together, you go out together.”  
“You and I do that. We’re not a couple.”  
“No...very true...we’re not. Really, your relationship with Melody is just missing the physical element. There really is not much difference between friendships and relationships other than the physical stuff.”  
“You’re saying I should do physical stuff with Melody? Like snogging and shagging?”  
“Yes! Sherlock, you are well aware of the scientific aspects of such acts.”  
“Well of course. Pleasure hormones are released...heart rates accelerated.”  
“Yes. Just...ok...the best advice I have to give you right now is talk to Melody. See how she feels. Tell her you like her. Kiss her. I know that’s scary for you but, for once in your life, just try it. You might like it. Besides, you are going to need someone like Melody in your life. I won’t always be able to spend all my waking hours with you, you know?”  
Sherlock just gave John a confused look.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean...well...I will always be your friend but there is someone very important in my life now. And soon, I will be devoting even more of my time to her.”  
“I don’t understand.”  
“Sherlock...I’m going to ask Jessie to marry me.”  
Meanwhile, Melody, feeling mostly recovered from her traumatic incident, went to visit Greg at his office. They had become close over their many conversations and Melody didn’t really know who else to go to about this.   
“Greg, I don’t want a relationship. I don’t.”  
“I know you say you don’t but, considering the reasons you gave me, Sherlock wouldn’t be a bad option. You say you are focused on your work and I get that. But Sherlock understands that. He wouldn’t demand a lot of you and honestly could probably help you in some cases. I mean, he probably wouldn’t be the most affectionate of boyfriends but he also wouldn’t be a distraction either.”  
Melody tried to argue but Greg made some good points.   
“Just...talk to him about it. At least it could help getting your feelings out in the open.”  
“I guess you’re right. Okay. I’ll talk to him tonight. Thanks.”  
“You’re welcome.”  
Melody turned to leave Greg’s office.  
“And Melody...I’m glad you’re okay.”  
Melody just smiled at him as she left his office. This was going to be one interesting conversation; she had to cook something.


	25. Chapter 25

As John left his meeting with Sherlock and headed home, his mind was racing. Although he had been thinking about proposing to Jessie for awhile it was the first time he had said it out loud. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get home and see her.   
He entered the flat and found Jessie cleaning. Instantly, he went to her, kissing her deeply as he scooped her up in his arms. He continued moving his lips over hers eagerly as he carried her to the bedroom.  
“John?” she asked once he released her lips, “what has gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining but is there a reason for all this attention?”  
John crawled over her on the bed.   
“I just love you so much,” he said, kissing down her neck.  
“I love you too,” she said, directing his mouth back to hers.  
“Jessie...I need you...right now,” he said, removing her dress in one quick motion.  
As John allowed his hands and lips to explore her exposed skin, Jessie worked on getting John out of his clothes as well. She removed his jumper and shirt followed quickly by his trousers. It mere moments, John had removed their pants as well. Now completely naked, Jessie decided to take control and rolled on top of John, grinding her hips against his, eliciting a moan from his lips. Leaning down, she began to kiss him again as his hand moved to that spot on her spine. It wasn’t long before they had both given into their urges for one another multiple times over.


	26. Chapter 26

Meanwhile, back at Baker Street, Melody had returned from her meeting with Greg and was now working furiously in the kitchen; she had no idea how she was going to bring up this subject with Sherlock. But she knew it was a conversation they needed to have. She was just about to pop some muffins in the oven when she heard Sherlock coming up the stairs. He entered the kitchen and, before Melody had a chance to process what was happening, Sherlock brought his lips down to hers, his hands tangling in her hair. Surprised, Melody pulled away, looking at him like he had lost his mind.  
“What are you doing?”  
“I needed to test something.”  
“Test what?! Your ability to give me a heart attack.”  
“Melody, I need to talk to you about something.”  
Melody, seeing the serious look on his face, decided to pour them each a cup of tea before they went into the living room, each taking a seat in the chairs. Sherlock took a sip of his tea before beginning,  
“Melody, you have lived with me for awhile now and you know I am not an emotional man. Therefore, this makes this conversation very difficult for me. I have always considered myself married to my work and the notion of a romantic relationship has never been a topic that interested me. I saw it as a mere distraction. However, ever since you took care of my on my night of poor alcoholic judgement, I began to see a possible benefit of such a relationship. Also, as you know, in the past I have been loathe to form attachments to people, feeling it leads to unnecessary heartbreak. However, I have come to learn that I do, in fact, have more friends than I realized. After talking with John, I have been informed that relationships are, in fact, essentially friendships at their core. After much consideration and struggle on my part, I came to accept the fact that I had fallen for you. I am human and a human cannot always control their biological reactions to another person.”  
“Sherlock, what exactly are you trying to say?”  
“I...I’m trying to say that Melody, I do, in fact like you as more than a mere friend and would be honored if you would allow me to take you out to dinner one evening.”  
Melody looked at him for awhile, finding the nervous look on his face actually quite endearing. Finishing off her tea, she set her cup down and began,  
“Sherlock, I have actually been meaning to talk to you about the same thing. You know that I don’t have many friends and, while we never talked about it, you probably surmised that my love life was non-existent. It isn’t that I am opposed to relationships but I am very picky because I have always found it difficult to find a man that could understand that my work comes first. Then I moved in here with you and realized you did the exact same thing with your job. Now, I admit I did not develop feelings for you until very recently. I think it was the night of the ball, when I saw you being so charming, that I realized that you and I really could be a good match. You understand my work and we would help each other out in that department. But you are always a good companion and someone I genuinely enjoy spending time with, which is more than I can say for most people. I admit I am surprised you feel the same way about me as I do about you because I always figured you would never feel romantic feelings towards anyone. But...I’m glad you do.”  
“So, you are agreeing to dinner with me?”  
“Yes.”   
A huge smile crossed Sherlock’s face, one Melody had never seen before.   
“Just one more question, Sherlock.”  
“Yes?”  
“That kiss...you said you were testing something. What exactly were you testing?”  
“Well, I was testing how I felt about such physical affection as it is something I have no actual experience with. Also...I was testing to see if you might have similar feelings for me as I had towards you and...wanted to see if you felt something...from the kiss.”  
Sherlock looked at her expectantly, obviously waiting for an answer.  
“Well,” Melody began, a flirty look in her eye now, “it happened so quick I really couldn’t tell how I felt about it. I feel I would need a more extensive experiment to draw such a conclusion.”  
Sherlock looked at her in confusion for a second or two before catching the drift of what she was saying. Then, a small smirk on his face, he rose from his chair. He approached where she was still seated and leaned over her. Tangling his hand in her hair once again, Sherlock kissed Melody deeply, passionately. Melody returned the kiss, her hand winding behind his neck to bring him closer and deepen the kiss. For a long time, the two flatmates kissed each other, exploring their newly discovered feelings for each other and eagerly wondering where this new relationship was going to go.


End file.
